Above the blood-soaked battlefield littered with corpses, a lone figure streaked through the sky like a shooting star.
It was Dingza, a chubby boy with the emblem of the Hidden Leaf Village proudly displayed on his forehead protector.
In an instant, a barrage of ninja tools was launched skyward. From the Sand ninja forces, a flurry of kunai adorned with explosive tags followed suit.
Sure, this pudgy kid wearing the Leaf headband was clearly just a child, barely old enough to be out of the Academy.
But on the battlefield? Who cared?
If they could blow this little fat kid into a bloody mist, it would be a tremendous morale boost for their side.
As the kunai with explosive tags closed in on Dingza, Nara Shikazuna's brows furrowed deeply. A wave of despair washed over him as he let out a silent, bitter sigh.
Even the Leaf ninja nearby couldn't bear to watch.
They had long since come to terms with the brutal realities of war, but seeing a ten-year-old child about to meet such a gruesome end? That struck a chord.
After all, he was just a kid!
It was too late.
Who could possibly save him now?
Just as the situation seemed utterly hopeless, a calm voice echoed across the battlefield.
"Ahem... Sorry, everyone. Please excuse us for the interruption."
"Carry on... carry on... Don't mind us."
As the voice rang out, a tall figure suddenly appeared in mid-air, grabbing Dingza by the back of his collar.
The next moment, a thunderous explosion ripped through the sky, fire and smoke erupting in a spectacular display.
Did they succeed?
Countless Sand and Stone ninja stared at the smoke-filled sky with cruel anticipation, eagerly awaiting the sight of bloodied limbs and charred remains.
But as the smoke cleared, the empty sky above left them disappointed.
At the edge of the battlefield, Rinjin sat under a tree, still smiling as if he had never moved.
The difference now was the presence of a terrified, snot-and-tear-covered chubby boy trembling beside him.
Seeing this scene, Nara Shikazuna let out a long sigh of relief. The knot of anxiety in his chest finally loosened.
Thank goodness!
Now he wouldn't have to beat his disgraceful son, Shikaku, to death as an apology.
Patting his chest in relief, Shikazuna shifted his focus back to the battlefield, fully dedicating himself to commanding the troops.
Meanwhile, at the battlefield's edge, Shikaku and Inoichi also collapsed to the ground in exhaustion, their faces filled with the joy of narrowly escaping disaster.
But there was no time to rest. The two scrambled to their feet, stumbling and crawling their way to Rinjin with expressions of pure admiration.
This time, they had been utterly terrified.
After all, they had almost gotten their childhood friend killed. The guilt of such a mistake could haunt and torment them for a lifetime.
Especially for the empathetic and precociously mature Shikaku, the weight of guilt would gnaw at his nerves every waking moment.
As Shikaku and Inoichi wallowed in self-blame, Rinjin slowly stood up, placing a firm hand on each of their shoulders.
"Enough. Stop beating yourselves up!" he said in a deep, steady voice.
"Now that you know your weaknesses, it's time to work your asses off!
If you don't want to see your comrades die, if you fear losing those you care about, then make yourselves stronger!
Life is full of choices. Will you choose to endure pain now to protect your friends, or will you choose comfort now and suffer eternal regret in the future?"
Hearing these words, Shikaku clenched his fists tightly. Raising his head, his young face burned with determination as he looked at Rinjin.
"I choose pain now!" he declared without hesitation.
Rinjin's lips twitched slightly, a faint smirk threatening to appear before he quickly masked it with a serious expression.
"You said it yourself! No regrets!" he said sternly.
"No regrets!" Shikaku shouted back, his voice filled with conviction, the fear of losing his best friend still fresh in his heart.
Good kid, Rinjin thought. You're the second toughest brat I've ever met.
The first? That would be Uchiha Fugaku.
If memory served, wasn't that the kid who cried his eyes out and rolled around on the ground to avoid training?
Or was he the one who buried himself in dirt, pretending to be dead?
Eh, whatever. Can't remember.
But one thing was certain—Shikaku was about to experience the same grueling training regimen as his "senior brother" Fugaku.
As time passed, the battle's intensity escalated further.
The ninja, now locked in brutal close combat, abandoned large-scale jutsu that consumed too much chakra and risked friendly fire. Instead, it was fists against flesh, blades against bone—a pure, bloody melee.
Even the reanimated Hanzo of the Salamander was fighting with unbridled fury.
His rage burned as he thought of the so-called great nations slaughtering each other on the land of smaller nations.
He thought of the suffering his people in the Land of Rain had endured.
And he thought of the humiliation of being forced to wear that ridiculous frilly dress.
Hanzo snapped.
There was no longer any plan to cooperate with the Leaf. No longer any distinction between ally and enemy. He wanted to kill everyone—or be killed trying.
In the pouring rain, Hanzo ripped off his mask, drawing on every ounce of chakra within his reanimated body. His hands flew through a rapid sequence of hand signs.
"Water Release: Violent Torrent!" he roared.
At the same time, Hanzo tapped his foot against the massive salamander Ibuse beneath him.
The salamander, accustomed to working in perfect sync with its master, immediately opened its maw wide, releasing a thick cloud of toxic gas.
The poisonous mist mixed with the violet-hued water jets Hanzo spewed from his mouth, creating a deadly rain that scattered across the battlefield.
In an instant, the entire battlefield was shrouded in a suffocating haze of poison.
Hanzo, consumed by bloodlust, no longer cared for honor or rules.
As a child, his body had been implanted with a poison sac from a salamander, making him inherently venomous. Combined with Ibuse's deadly toxins, the two were a walking chemical weapon.
Together, they had turned the battlefield into a toxic wasteland—a double-layered gas bomb of death.
The ninja from the Fire, Wind, and Earth nations, their faces already tinged with purple from the spreading poison, fell silent.
What kind of madness was this?
The guy who was supposed to be breaking up the fight had just beaten everyone else to a pulp?
As curses filled the minds of the surviving ninja, Jiraiya bit his thumb and quickly formed hand signs.
"Summoning Jutsu!"
Boom!
A massive plume of white smoke exploded, revealing the towering figure of Gamabunta, his pipe clenched between his teeth, his expression as arrogant as ever.
But as Gamabunta's beady eyes scanned the battlefield and landed on the salamander Ibuse, his face turned pale.
Toads counter slugs.
Slugs counter snakes.
Snakes counter toads.
But what the hell counters a salamander?!
An out-of-control chemical plant? A bunch of idol fans pouring milk into rivers?
And this thing wasn't just any salamander—it was the kind that would eat its own kind when hungry!
Forget himself—even Manda, with his natural poison resistance, wouldn't stand a chance against this thing!
As Gamabunta froze in shock, Jiraiya's stern voice cut through the chaos.
"Gamabunta, use the oil!"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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